


Give The World A Hero (And Lose All You Love)

by IncisiveRiposte



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Can be read without knowledge of Worm, Crossover, Gen, Inko is so worried you guys, Izuku why must you keep getting yourself hurt, Post canon, Spoilers, for Worm that is, for both series, its excellent read it, raising reckless teens with superpowers is Hard, why wouldnt you read Worm tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncisiveRiposte/pseuds/IncisiveRiposte
Summary: Hospital visits were becoming a depressingly common fixture in Inko Midoriya's life.They're made a little less depressing when she meets the strange, tired American man and his daughter, and finds that she isn't the only single parent who's had to raise a bullied, superpowered teen with next to no regard for their personal safety.This revelation brings her both comfort and concern, in roughly equal amounts.Izuku just thinks it'd be nice to make a friend.





	Give The World A Hero (And Lose All You Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Knowledge of both works isn't required for this, but [Worm](https://parahumans.wordpress.com) is such an amazingly good story, everyone should give it a go. Seriously, if you have even the slightest interest in superhero stories, this won't disappoint.

Hospital visits were becoming a depressingly common fixture in Inko Midoriya's life. 

That and visits from police and pro-heroes with bad news. But the hospitals were the worst. She could come so close, but there was so rarely anything that could be done. It was mostly forms for release and insurance - paid for by U.A, thankfully, but with that came endless piles of forms, legalese, and waivers - all of which Inko tore into with a ferocious intensity that she didn't often let show, checking the smallest minutiae, the most obscure clauses and footnotes, and badgered the staff until she was certain that it covered everything that was deserved. It felt like the very least she could do, while her poor Izuku lay recovering from whatever fresh nightmarish injury that had been inflicted on him. 

_Sometimes by himself_ , a voice in her head often pointed out. She tried, she tried so, so hard to be happy for her son, finally able to live out his dream. But the days he was away at school and she sat alone, wondering if _this_ would finally be the day that dream killed him, it was enough to bring her to tears.

To be fair, there were a lot of things that brought Inko Midoriya to tears. She was an emotional woman, she knew that. During the televised Sports Festival, she'd fainted nearly fourteen times.  
Not that what she saw wasn't enough that it was understandable. Her Izuku, his arms shattered, swollen and misshapen, throwing around punches that tore through solid tons of ice like tissue paper, using a quirk he hadn't known _existed_ a year ago…  
It scared her, and the image of his permanently damaged hand lingered in her mind's eye.

It was precisely that image that brought her to the hospital today, in fact. As blasé as Izuku claimed to be about it ( _the doctor said there could be nerve damage and he was trying to pass it off as some kind of reminder for the future_ ) Inko had drawn the line when he dropped three bowls in a row; once by accident, a second while she was picking up the pieces of the first, and a third while trying to prove that 'Really, my hand's fine mom!' At least she was able to catch the last one with her quirk.

After Inko had steamrolled through her son's objections with a few pointed questions about _how, exactly_ , he planned to be a pro hero if he couldn't even save her nice bowls while doing the washing up, Inko had marched up to the principal's office, and demanded that something be done. It was hard to assertively maintain eye contact with something little more than a foot tall and with side facing eyes, but Inko thinks she managed well enough since the small… head teacher, was all too willing to arrange the corrective surgeries Izuku needed to retain more control in his damaged hand.

Which led her here, to the waiting room of the Outpatient wing. The operations had been managed well, with Izuku missing no more than a few days of school, but some physical therapy was needed too. So three days a week after school, Inko took her son in for an hour of exercises and checkups. The wait wasn't too long, though it was still a little boring. She didn't mind though. She was helping Izuku, and it was so rare that she even could, these days.

It was during one of these sessions that Inko noticed a new face around the waiting room. A thin, plain, and tired looking man, around her age. An American, judging by the brief conversation she'd overheard him have with the girl who had to be his daughter, old enough to be a third year. That was interesting enough, but as the girl left the room —joining the same group as Izuku— a look passed over the man's face, one that Inko recognised and keenly felt; love, but tempered by concern, worry, and more than a little fear. This man, Inko realized, understood what it was to have a child that wanted to be a hero.

Once, she'd gradually worked up the courage to strike up a conversation with another parent in the waiting room, only to find out she'd left it too late and that it was their last session. There hadn't been anyone to talk to after that, so when Inko saw this opportunity, she couldn't let it go by.

Making her way over as confidently as she is able, she smiles and sticks her hand out; the Americans tended to prefer handshakes to bows, she recalls.  
"Hello! My name is Inko Midoriya. Are you waiting on your child in physical rehabilitation as well?"

Despite the quick flash of a pained expression Inko thinks she saw when he spotted her coming over, the man covers it well, smiling back and firmly taking her hand, then loosens his grip, seemingly fighting his muscle memory.  
"A pleasure to meet you, In-" He stops a moment, catching his mistake, "Mrs. Midoriya. I'm Daniel Hebert, but please, call me Danny."  
Definitely American. Though…  
"And yes, I'm waiting on Taylor. What about you? I'm guessing the boy with the green hair?"  
His accent is strange. She's heard American accents before, and while they vary a lot, this one really stands out. The shape of the sounds isn't quite right, as with most non-native speakers she'd encountered; unless they'd started young, there were some things they just couldn't pronounce right. But the rest of it, the grammar, the vocabulary, it's all excellent; no hesitation, basically fluent. She wonders if it's a by-product of whatever method Mr. Hebert- no, Danny, used to learn. Perhaps even a quirk. She heard of things like that, quirks that could grant knowledge. Mostly she'd seen them in the news concerning international diplomacy. Could that be why Danny was in the country?

Inko is so caught up in thought that she almost forgets to answer the question.  
"O-oh yes, that's my Izuku! He's a student at U.A," she replies, because, really that says it all. Unless, she remembers, you're not from Japan and haven't heard of…  
"Oh, U.A is-"  
"The hero school, right?"  
They interrupt each other, and the conversation stalls for a moment, as apologies are exchanged and waved off.  
"But yes, I've heard of it." Something in Danny's tone tells Inko that it's not all good things that he's heard. Which makes sense, the school's been getting some negative press recently, with murmurings of the Villain Alliance resurfacing.

Danny starts to say something, but breaks off before he forms more than a syllable.  
Inko smiles encouragingly. "Go on, I've heard all the questions at least twice over by now." And it's true; UA's prestige meant she got plenty of queries once people found out her son went there.

The question Danny comes out with had actually been asked on at least three separate occasions.

"Is that why he's in there?" His voice is tinged with knowing sympathy. Hero work was a dangerous career, and apparently training to be one was only a little less so.

"It is. He's still recovering from his injuries from the sports festival," Inko confides. "Did you catch it? It's fairly popular, and well televised."

Danny shakes his head. "Only saw bits of it, I was clearing up the house at the time. Taylor did give me some running commentary though, and some of it sounded pretty crazy. Apparently some kid was tossing out glaciers, and another was shattering his arms at people?"

Inko winces at the description. She couldn't imagine what it must have felt like, but just the memory of the images on her T.V. had her gut feeling like it was full of lead.  
"Yes, it was not at all easy to watch," she agrees. Probably best that she didn't mention that was Izuku just yet. He'd told her how so many people had approached him in the days after the festival, and she knew just how bashful he could be. No sense in having the story spread to his rehab group while he was meant to be focusing on getting better.  
But while they're on the subject...

"And your daughter? Which school does she attend?"

"Oh, Taylor?" Danny's gaze slides off of her, over to the closed doors to the physical rehabilitation room. "She's, uh, not at school anymore. Not sure what we'll do, but she can't really do much while she's recovering." He trails off.

Inko's voice is soft, hesitant as she asks, "She was in a hero course too, wasn't she?"

Danny's attention snaps back to her, and Inko somehow manages to shrink into herself more than she already had. "Sorry if I assumed, it's just… I saw the way you were looking and," Inko takes a rallying breath. "I just knew you had to be like me. You're raising someone who has to be a hero."

It's Danny's turn to flinch, and he suddenly seems so, so exhausted. Finally, he nods. "Yes. It's hard, isn't it."  
It's not really a question but Inko nods in agreement anyway.

They end up being quiet for most of the rest of the wait, as if they'd reached some arbitrary limit to the amount of emotional connection you can share with someone on the first meeting.

* * *

Izuku is the second last of the patients to emerge, holding the door as Danny's daughter exits as well, and Inko finally gets a good look at the girl.

Tall and skinny, with black hair cut unusually short, even for most boys that age. Though the somewhat uneven length suggested she was growing it out. Thin lips, with a wide mouth, and large eyes. Inko would almost call her plain looking, except-

_Her arm._

Icy horror washes over Inko as she realizes one of the girl’s arms ends partway past her shoulder; a solid flesh-tone prosthetic is affixed to the stump.

Inko watches as the girl nods in thanks, and moves past Izuku as she makes her way over to Danny, favoring one side. Taylor's eyes widen fractionally in surprise at she notices Inko, and her gaze flickers back over to Izuku.

_Was their hair really so distinctive?_

Inko excuses herself before Taylor makes it over to them, and bustles over to meet Izuku half way.

"So, how was your arm this time?"

Izuku's smile is so bright it practically makes Inko's eyes water.  
"It was great Mom, the nurse said it was healing up really well. I can be back to full strength in no time!"

After chatting a little more on their way out about the details of the session, Inko sees an opportunity and asks with a grin, "So, I saw you holding the door for that girl. Very courteous of you, Izuku." Because if mothers can't have some fun at their children's expense once in a while, what's even the point?

Izuku turns a very familiar shade of red as he stammers through his response. "O-oh! That was Taylor- well, um, she told us to call her that! S-she's from America! They don't use their family names to address each other as much over there, Present Mic is always going on about it-"

Wisely, Inko cuts in before things can progress to an all-out mumble-a-thon.  
"What did you think of her?"

Izuku’s a little surprised by the question, but it gets him on track. "She's uh, kinda intense? Quiet, but the kind of quiet where you can tell they're thinking about something, I guess. Like Todoroki, a little."

He's quiet for a minute, before adding, "I almost thought I might've seen her at UA. She seemed like the sort of person who'd make it there. But..."  
He chews at his lip. "I think she was sad, too."

The rest of the trip home is spent discussing nothing heavier than which lessons Izuku's enjoying the most, but the entire time Inko is thinking of Danny and his daughter.

She's going to have to talk to Danny again.

If only to make sure Izuku doesn't end up the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't actually ever written fic before, so feedback on this would be hugely appreciated.


End file.
